Sunscreen
by Mutant-Enemy-730
Summary: One-shot. It wasn't just a day at the beach, there was a purpose in all of this after all.


Disclaimer: The obvious: I make no profit, these do not belong to me. Oh and Joss Whedon is a god.  
A/N: Other obvious: Holy shit! I wrote something!

This was a piece I wrote in 90 minutes. It started with one word on my mind: Sunscreen (thank you, NYC Pride for needing that like, whoa).  
Timeline: Who knows? Post-S7. Doesn't follow the comics.

* * *

Sunscreen was the Devil. Faith was certain of this. Why, one might ask? Why should you consider such a trivial – although, technically important – commercial, cosmetic, _insert adjective here_ item a product of Satan?

Well, and this is the crucial part, it's because of the greasiness.

Obviously.

However, Faith was oh-so willing to pretend that ol' Lucifer was a genius for one important reason.

Two words: Buffy. Bikini.

Oh, and beach. Did I mention beach?

Regardless, Faith was currently lying on her stomach, her toes tunneling into the sand at the end of the blanket, her own string bikini _just_ covering the important bits. A faded and backwards Red Sox ball cap was strategically placed on her head to control her lively, post-swimming hair, a navy blue pair of scratched and well-used Ray Bans slowly sliding down her nose, while she folded the first half of her paperback copy of _The Big Sleep_ back to meet the back cover. She knew Andrew was cringing every time he looked over.

It was the main reason she did it.

"Hey, would you mind getting my back? Dawn has claimed that her years of servitude are over. I tried to tell her that she technically has only done it since 2000-ish, but she doesn't seem to care," Buffy broke Faith's concentration and she dog-eared the page, her eyes flicking to see Andrew's knuckles whiten on the armrest of his beach chair, his face a full-blown scowl as he watched her.

"Way I see it, her memories count, considering we all think it happened, B. " Faith commented as she closed her book, and pushed her sunglasses up her nose with her index finger before pushing herself back onto her knees.

"That doesn't really help my argument, you know," Buffy pouted.

Faith chuckled and held out her hand, "C'mon, hand it over and sit your butt down."

"There?" Buffy's pout continued, "But I'm safe here in the shade, and comfy in this chair."

"Which I carried for you. Now get your ass over here before I dump you out of it and make you get sand in the places where the sun don't shine."

Buffy's face twisted into an awkward grimace, and Faith heard Andrew gag slightly. Ignoring the latter, Faith snapped her fingers to get Buffy to move, and she grinned when the blonde jerked up and came out of the shade, turning and sitting – ungracefully, one might add – on the blanket in front of her.

It was so perfect, it was damn near Pavlovian.

Holding the bottle of sunscreen over her shoulder, Buffy huffed in her last attempt to express her displeasure while Faith yanked it from her grasp in an equally petulant manner. It wasn't her normal way of dealing with Buffy, but Faith had learned that it sometimes took one to know one.

Faith looked at the bottle, some expensive, top o' the line brand that shit rainbows and SPF 55. Motherfucking what?

"Do you even _want_ a tan?" Faith exclaimed, her brows rising above her Ray Bans.

"Buffy likes to pretend it will appear out of sheer will, and that she will not turn into a tomato, which is often the case," Dawn replied before Buffy could even open her mouth, idly flipping a page in the magazine she was reading.

"Was she asking you?" Buffy shot back defensively. Then, quieter, more to herself than her and Faith, "I do not turn into a tomato."

"More like a beet," Xander murmured from under the t-shirt he had thrown over his face, where he lay – safely – ten feet away, on his own beach towel.

"What? Hey, that's not fair! You're the one who told me that SPF 30 would be fine!" Buffy turned to look over at Xander, her hand reaching for a handful of sand from the edge of the blanket.

"Uh uh, B, hold it right there. There will be no sand slinging before 5 p.m." Faith gripped Buffy's arm quickly, halting her mid throw, "Now sit still, or would you rather have funky streaks?"

Buffy's hand opened immediately and the sand fell to the blanket. A point to Lehane, while Summers has yet to score.

Finally getting all the ducks settled, Faith focused on the task at hand. Sunscreen. Not her best friend. But she had a similar work ethic for lube. Best used in hard-to-reach places. Liberally.

Grinning, she opened the bottle and squirted a large amount onto her palm. She saw Buffy's back stiffen at the sound, and knew her sister Slayer was not happy with the amount being used. Tough cookies.

And without any further ado, she slapped her palm onto Buffy's back.

"Gah! God, Faith, what the hell are you doing?" Buffy exclaimed, and Faith could _hear_ her molars grinding.

Knowing the set up couldn't be better, Faith leaned forward even as she began rubbing the lotion into Buffy's back. She was close enough for Buffy to feel her breath on her ear, and the blonde's head cocked slightly to one side, turning just a fraction towards Faith. Her hands worked the lotion in, sliding beneath the straps, working lower, ghosting along Buffy's sides.

"You asked for it, you never said how you wanted it," Faith rasped softly, her voice a low burr, too quiet for any of the Scoobies to hear.

The hitch in Buffy's breathing was telling enough – she knew _exactly_ where Faith's mind was going.

And then she leaned back slightly into Faith's hands, and Faith groaned low in her throat, her eyes closing at the welcoming gesture. By now, her hands had reached the top of Buffy's bikini bottoms. A quick flick, and her index finger was inside the band, trailing across the width of the blonde's back.

Buffy exhaled at the caress, and Faith heard Dawn huff as the magazine crinkled into her lap.

"Oh for crying out loud, can you two go anywhere and not get all touchy-feely? Please? I'd like one day spent with my sister and her long-term girlfriend, partner, what-have-you, where I am not subjected to sexual undertones in everything you two do together."

"Yunno, Rugrat, most of what we do together _is_…" Faith began, already feeling the shit-eating grin spreading across her face.

"Do _not_ finish that sentence!" Dawn cut Faith off, who was now grinning wolfishly.

"Why not?" Xander grumbled, and this time, Faith lifted her own handful of sand and chucked it at him.

"No! No sand throwing! Recently lotioned back! Gah!" Buffy scrambled away from Faith and Xander, who were clearly preparing for war.

Xander pulled the shirt from his face, and squinted in the sun, his hand dropping to the sand beside his towel.

"Don't lift that hand, Harris. I will break your fingers if you make her throw any more that might overshoot you and hit me," Willow commanded from behind a book in a low beach chair next to him.

Xander turned to look over at his best friend, and made a _hrumph_-type noise before settling on glaring at Faith for a moment longer and then pulling the shirt back over his head.

Faith chuckled, and lifted her hand in a mock salute at the redhead before glancing back over at Buffy, who had snuck her way back into her chair under the umbrella.

Faith growled. The whole point of the beach excursion was to get Buffy wet. Preferably in multiple ways. This would not happen if she kept hiding under the umbrella.

"I don't care if all you do is stick a toe in, you're coming down to the water with me, Summers," Faith glowered as she stood, moving to stand over Buffy, who had conveniently shrunk in her seat, her knuckles white as she held the arms in a death-grip.

"But it's _cold_!" Buffy complained, her voice squeaky. Faith had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. She was so cute when she was pretending to be difficult.

"It's Race Point, B. It'll always be cold. But it's also the warmest it'll ever be all year, now c'mon!" Faith grabbed the closest wrist and yanked, pulling the Chosen One to stand next to her. Then, quieter, "'Sides, how long you wanna watch Andrew checking out the lifeguards before you get sick of it? Let's go try an see if the seals will come by."

Buffy seemed to debate her argument before shrugging and grinning, her hand falling into Faith's with ease.

"Well, maybe a toe," Buffy murmured, leaning against Faith as they walked towards the water.


End file.
